


Simple Twist of Fate

by EmpireX



Category: Red Eye (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, College, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Movie, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 06:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpireX/pseuds/EmpireX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Jackson and Lisa had met in college - before the life-altering tragedies and criminal misdeeds?  Just two young people who Fate put in each other's way. An AU fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Twist of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> I recently rewatched Prelude to a Kiss- which I hadn't seen it in years. I was completely taken with the first encounter between the characters: the awkward reality, the humor and poignancy. And since I've been working on my other much-darker RE fic, I thought, wouldn't it be nice to read something a little lighter for the holidays? And there's just not enough AU Red Eye fic out there. Also I felt extremely guilty about the lack of updates for INTFTKY. :/
> 
> I may continue this, or it may just be a one-shot, I don't know. Anyhoo, Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah/Holidays (belatedly) and Happy New Year! Hope you enjoy.

It was official. The party sucked. He had spent most of it on the roof watching the traffic below. He'd been hiding out there for about an hour, sheltered under an awning, smoking cigarette after cigarette, hoping that his friend's sister wouldn't find him out here. He'd been ducking her all night. Lindsey was a nice enough girl. Pretty, if somewhat vapid, and too young. He wasn't interested.

Jackson stamped his feet and blew into his hands. It was going to start snowing again soon, he could smell it.

He took a long, last drag on his cigarette, finally hitting filter. He stubbed it out on the brick wall, then flicked it off the side of the building. He nodded to the couple chatting by the door - the girl lived in his dorm - and then ducked back inside. Better find Wash and say goodnight.

Once inside, his ears were immediately assaulted by that obnoxious Chumbawumba song - the one they played every fifteen minutes on the radio. He found their host, Toby Washburn, dancing in his trademark spastic way with a group of friends.

Jackson gently laid a hand on his shoulder to get his attention over the din of shitty music and people shouting over the shitty music. And to keep from accidentally getting an elbow in the eye.

"Wash, I'm heading out."

"Hey, man, where ya been?

"Around."

"Uh huh," Wash said knowingly. "Sorry about Lindsey. You'd think she's never seen a boy before. I'll tell her to cool it. Hey, did you meet-" he pointed vaguely in the direction of the girl he had been dancing with.

"-Lisa," the girl finished for him, and pumped her fist in the air to the drumbeat. Jesus, she was as spastic a dancer as Wash. He hoped to God she was drunk, for her sake.

Jackson quirked an eyebrow and tried not to sneer. "No. Hi."

Lisa stopped dancing and stepped forward, a slightly sheepish smile on her face. "Hi."

"Lisa, Jackson. Jackson, Lisa," Wash said, getting their introduction out of the way.

"I just wanted to say bye before I..."

"What's everybody drinking?" Wash asked cheerfully, clapping him on the back and shoving Jackson towards Lisa.

"I'll have a PBR," Lisa said.

"Uh, no. Thank you. I'm..."

"No no no, just relax. So, one Pabst Blue Ribbon and a Heineken."

Wash danced off in the direction of the kitchen, but not before turning and, behind Lisa's back, shooting Jackson a double thumbs up and leering like crazy.

Another song came on, something by Tears for Fears or The Cure, he wasn't sure. It was a little slower and so when Lisa started dancing again, it was much more normal and not so much a manifestation of Tourette's in her limbs.

Wash was back in a flash with their respective beers. Jackson's lip curled in disgust at the bottle in Lisa's hand.

"Pabst Blue Ribbon, huh?" he cringed.

"Shut up," she said good-naturedly. "I like it."

"It tastes like piss."

Lisa shrugged and took a gulp.

Jackson chuckled and nodded, noticing for the first time how pretty the girl was.

Like, really pretty.

"So how do you know Wash?"

"Toby's my cousin."

Ah, well, that explained the dancing.

"My parents decided to go to Tuscany for Christmas. My brother went to Aspen with his girlfriend's family. My family sucks, what can I say? I would have been an orphan this Christmas if Uncle Jim and Aunt Deb hadn't taken me in."

"Well, that was nice of them."

"Yep."

"Do you go to school here at BU?"

"Yep. I'm in Shelton Hall." 

"That's funny, I haven't seen you around before."

"I think I've seen you in the hallway. Aren't you dating a girl who lives in Shelton?"

Jackson grinned. "Nope. You must be mistaken."

Lisa's eyes narrowed, trying to determine if he was lying or not. He was.

"No, I'm pretty sure I've seen you sneaking out of there a couple times. I think I'd recognize that bone-structure anywhere."

Jackson laughed. "You're an early riser, I guess?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Why?"

"I haven't slept since I was fourteen."

Jackson, unaware that he was even dancing with her, stops.

"I'm sorry, did you just say you haven't slept since you were fourteen?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, you look great. Considering."

Lisa laughed, her perfect hundred-watt smile landing a karate chop to his gut. Except it was extremely pleasant. Oh, yeah. Really pretty. Gorgeous, in fact.

"Thanks," she said.

"Lisa what?"

"Uh, Reisert."

"Jackson Rippner," he said.

"Wait, what?"

"Jackson Rippner," he repeated, leaning closer to her ear.

She frowned. "That's what I thought you said. Oh, god! And I thought my parents were jerks."

"That's what I told them. Before I killed them."

Lisa squinted, "What was that?"

"Never mind, that was just a non-humorous flail." Jackson's mouth twisted in a self-deprecating smirk.

"I think you're the only one here wearing a tie."

Jackson looked down self-consciously. "I have a job. Well, an internship. I was there... before I came here." God, he sounded like an idiot.

Lisa smiled and he could tell she was just teasing. She reached up and tugged the knot of his tie down a little, then pulled it apart. She unbuttoned the top button on his shirt, shooting him a smile which could have been interpreted as flirtatious.

"There," she said. "Now you don't look like you're on your way to a funeral."

Jackson smiled, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "So what do you do when you're not not-sleeping?"

"Read. Work on my dissertation. And I bartend on the weekends."

"Really? Where?"

"Maggie Riley’s."

"Never heard of it."

"It's off-campus. Townies tip better than college students."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. Flash some of these old Irish guys a smile, they'll love ya forever."

"They don't hit on you?"

"Oh, heck no. Anyone gets too familiar, Maggie would drag them out by their ear. They're mostly good, salt of the earth type folks."

"So why can't you sleep? You know what's good? I can't remember what it's called. It's an herb-"

"-I've tried it."

"Didn't work?"

She shook her head. "I can't remember what it's called ether. My memory's terrible."

"Maybe that's why you can't sleep. You forget how tired you are." Wow, he just kept saying the stupidest shit...

Lisa laughed, more at his nerdiness than his joke, he was sure.

"Well, if you ever need any help getting to sleep..."

Jackson stopped himself, playing back what he just said and realizing that it sounded like a proposition - which was not his intention at all.

Not that he didn't want to sleep with her...

His mouth dropped open, trying to form words.

"I, uh, I'm sorry. That was not, uh..."

Lisa looked away, slightly embarrassed, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

"Uh, it was nice talking to you." He swiftly extended his hand. Lisa was startled by his abruptness and there was a moment's hesitation before she shook his hand.

Lisa nodded, "You too." She smiled softly.

As he turned on his heel and headed for the door, he heard her offer a soft "Happy New Year," to his retreating back.

Jackson stepped quickly down the stairs and out into the cold night. He wrapped his scarf around his neck and pulled on his gloves, finally feeling... safe. That Lisa girl unnerved him. It wasn't her fault; she had been nothing but sweet. It was him; or to be more exact, the effect she had on him.

Behind him, he could hear the music cut off and a chorus of voices begin the countdown to midnight. Jackson paused for a moment in indecision. There was still time. He could run back up the stairs, taking them two at a time, find Lisa, and make sure it was his lips pressed to hers when the clock struck twelve.

But something kept him from acting on the impulse. He'd made an ass of himself. She had probably laughed at him as soon as he was out the door. She probably had a boyfriend. Girls who looked like that were never single.

And yet...

The way her smile had curled over her lips when she looked into his eyes.

And the way she'd touched him, unbuttoning his collar, soft fingers brushing his chin with a sweet familiarity.

He half-turned back to the door, but the unified shouts of "Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!" halted him.

His heart dropped to his stomach, disappointment washing over him. He'd missed his chance.

It began to snow when Jackson started the walk back to his apartment, which just happened to take him past Shelton Hall. He stood there for a while, just listening to the sounds coming from the building, the sounds from the streets. He tried to figure out which window was hers. He wondered what her life was like, and why she couldn't sleep.

And just like that...

He was smitten.

*****

Saturday night he found himself in an unfamiliar part of Boston. Maggie Riley’s was in an old neighborhood, not entirely run down, but on its way. There was a group of middle-aged men in the corner having a small jam session. There were a couple acoustic guitars, a fiddle, a pipe and a small drum. They were playing an Irish folk tune and Jackson had to admit, they had nice voices.

The bar - more of a pub, really - itself was worn. Dark wood paneling. A mirror across the back of the bar and green-shaded light fixtures hung from the ceiling over the booths and the bar.

He spotted Lisa behind the bar, mopping up a spill from the granite counter.

"Hi," he said.

Lisa looked up, surprised. "Oh! Hi."

He moved closer to the bar. "Is this... all right?" he asked, unsure if she'd want to see him again after their first meeting.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm sorry. You are permanently barred from coming in here."

Jackson felt his stomach drop into his feet. "Oh," he said lamely, and slowly turned for the door.

"Hey!" she called. "I was just kidding. Come back here!"

She laughed as he pulled out a stool and sat down opposite her.

"You're so serious," she chided. "So what's new?"

"Since Thursday? So much has happened," he joked. It fell completely flat. "You look great," he murmured.

Lisa flushed and smiled. "What'll you have?"

"Uh... a pint of Guinness?"

"Excellent choice." She reached under the bar for a glass.

"So did you get some sleep?"

"Eventually. You?"

"Sleep? Oh, I don't have any trouble."

That wasn't a lie, strictly speaking, since his newly-developed insomnia manifested only after he'd met her. But he wasn't going to cop to that.

"I did finish The White Hotel last night, though. That's pretty much it."

She set his glass down in front of him. "Oh? How was it?"

"Did you read it?"

"No. But I've read some of the case histories that it was based on."

"You have? You've read Freud?"

"Yeah. Don't look so surprised," she chided.

"Well, the book, it starts off with this very sexual dream-thing..."

Lisa giggled. "Yeah, I hear everybody beats off when they read it."

Jackson almost spat his drink of Guinness out. He managed to swallow, coughing all the while.

Lisa covered her face in embarrassment, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

"I'm sorry!"

"You heard that, did you?" he chuckled.

She waved her hands in the air. "Go on."

"Well, this lovely, very neurotic woman goes into therapy with Freud himself, and he sort of cures her, so that she can go on with her life, for a while, at least... before being killed by the Nazis... in a lime pit."

Lisa looked horrified. "Jesus!"

"Yeah, happy stuff, huh?" He takes another sip of his pint.

"So why were you in Europe for two years?"

Jackson is taken aback. "How did you know I lived in Europe?"

"Word gets around."

"Uh huh," he smirked.

"I asked Toby," she confessed.

"You asked Wash about me?" His smirk turned into a full-fledged smile. He was actually very flattered. No - excited about Lisa checking up on him.

Lisa's nose and mouth scrunched up in a very cute way as she tried not to smile back.

God, this girl... 

"Let's get married," he murmured.

She snorted - a rather unladylike snort, but he didn't care, he thought it was adorable.

"Okay," she said, completely not serious.

He wasn't so sure that he... wasn't.

"All right, here's the story. It's not as sad as it sounds, honest."

"Shoot."

"My parents divorced when I was four. I went to live with my grandparents, who are, unfortunately deceased now - I'm gonna make this as brief as possible, I swear."

Lisa smiled softly. "Take your time. We can go back to my place when you're done." 

Jackson's eyes got very large. That smile of hers was clearly hiding something wicked underneath.

"...And everyone lived happily ever after. The end."

Lisa giggled. "Nooooo. Go on."

"Okay, I'm four years old. I go to live with my grandparents, who both wound up having to go into nursing homes when I was fourteen. So, I go to live with my mother. who by this time is remarried to Hank, a very unhappy person."

Lisa groaned sympathetically. "Oh, dear. I've never met a 'Hank' that I liked."

"His favorite pastimes are watching baseball and ridiculing me in front of the other two children they have created from their..." his lip curled in disgust "...unsavory loins."

Lisa's nose wrinkled in sympathy.

"I'm there a year and a half before I get shipped off to live with my father, who has also remarried with three other children. Sandra, the new wife, hates me even more than Hank." Jackson takes a pull from his Guinness.

"Good grief," Lisa swore. "This is like a Dickens novel."

Jackson chuckled. "The only nice thing Sandra ever did for me was make the same food twice when I made the mistake of saying that I liked it. Usually she would stop cooking whatever it was I said I liked."

"What was it?"

"What I liked?"

Lisa nodded.

"Spaetzle."

"Oh!" Lisa's eyes lit up.

"You've had spaetzle?"

"Oh, yeah! My grandparents are German."

"You like it?"

"I love it!"

"You love spaetzle," he mused. He'd never met a girl who liked spaetzle before. Hell, he'd never even met a girl stateside who'd had it.

His grin curled his lips and crinkled his eyes. Jackson was in love. He couldn't stop looking at her. It was starting to make her blush. She looked away.

Jackson finally succeeded in wiping the dorky grin from his face. "Where was I?"

"Sandra made spaetzle.

"Right. Anyway, everyone is unhappy now. My father doesn't seem too fond of me. I'm not sure if he ever was, but... I began to plan my escape."

Lisa put her elbows up on the bar and leaned in closer. He had her completely enthralled, he could tell.

"One night, a couple weeks after graduation, I tell them I'm going to the movies. And instead, I went to Europe."

Lisa's mouth parted in awe. "What movie?" she asked.

"In the Army Now, I think. Why?"

"Pauly Shore," she muttered to herself; and if it made some kind of since to her, it was lost on him. "Did you call them?"

"Not until I got there. And I called them collect," he grinned evilly

"Ha!" Lisa cackled and slapped her hand on the bar. "That is... Good for you!" She gave him a high five. "That is awesome!"

Jackson laughed. "I didn't come back for two years. Not until my dad had a heart attack. Why'd you ask me which movie?" 

Lisa shrugged. "Details. I like hearing your voice."

Now it was his turn to blush. Luckily, a patron came up to order and she was momentarily distracted.

"Whatever happened to Pauly Shore anyway?" Lisa asked. "People loved him! Remember when everyone was walking around doing 'the weasel?' And then, like, overnight, everyone hated him."

Jackson shrugged his shoulders. "Over-exposure?"

"Maybe," Lisa said thoughtfully. "Was any of that story true?"

Jackson grinned and took another drink. "Every word."

*****

The snow was starting to come down again when he walked her home. 

"...But I was only in the party for about... two months, really."

"I've never known a communist," he snickered.

"Socialist!" she cried, correcting him, and punched him in the arm.

"Ow! Okay, socialist," he amended with a smirk.

"What can I say, Freshman year was a strange time. So what was Amsterdam like?"

"Smoked a lot of pot."

"Got laid a lot?" she smirked knowingly.

"A bit," he grinned. "And then I was in London for about eight months, finally ended up in Berlin."

"Do you speak German?" she asked, taking his arm in hers.

"Ja."

"Say something in German."

"Deine zahne sind sehr weiss."

"What does that mean?"

"You have very white teeth."

"Well, thank you."

"Now you say, 'Dass ich dich besser fressen kann!'"

Lisa let go of his arm and leapt up into the air suddenly, startling him. Jackson stopped and took a step back. What the...

"Wait," she mumbled, backed up and jumped again. Her hand shot up, reaching for the last remaining clump of brown leaves on the low-hanging tree branch above their heads. The leaves made a rattling sound and Lisa smiled in satisfaction.

"Okay," she said, turning back to him. "Say that again?"

Jackson just blinked at her for a moment. Was she OCD or just odd? Did he even care? She was pretty hot, odd or no. He decided he really liked her quirkiness.

"Dass ich dich besser fressen kann," he repeated.

"Dass eek deesh... Wait, what?" she giggled.

"Besser."

"Bessa," she repeated.

"Fressen kann."

"Fressen... can," she stumbled, laughing.

"Perfect," he smiled.

She laughed because it sooo wasn't.

"You've got a good ear."

"Good ear, clean teeth," she grinned.

"You do."

"So what did I say?"

"Oh, I can't tell you."

Lisa's face screwed up. "I knew it! I knew you were gonna say that! I knew it!" She jogged up the concrete stairs to the dorm.

"It's untranslatable, anyway."

"Sure it is."

He followed her up the stairs as she dug in her purse for her keys.

"I'll tell you someday. I will, I promise," he said, his voice soft, teasing.

Lisa stood motionless, fiddling with the keys in her hand. She seemed to be contemplating the exact same thing he was. Would she invite him up or not?

She twisted the key in the lock and stepped through the door. He was about to follow when she turned to look at him, her back leaning against the row of mailboxes. Her eyes were large and grave and he really wanted to kiss her. He could also tell this wasn't something she'd ever done before.

"You're really not seeing anyone?" she asked softly, warily.

"No."

"Because I don't sneak around with other girls' boyfriends."

"I know," he murmured, taking a step closer to her. A lock of her auburn hair had escaped from her stocking cap. He twisted it around his finger.

"And I'll kick your ass if I find out you've lied to me."

Jackson grinned. "I know. I told you, I'm not seeing anyone exclusively."

Lisa's head tilted as she eyed him carefully. "Does she know that?"

"She does."

Or she would, whenever she listened to the voicemail he left on her answering machine. Not his classiest move, he would admit, but he'd had a limited amount of time when he excused himself to go to the restroom. Lisa had been closing up the bar and she hadn't answered her phone.

Lisa pressed her lips together, trying to read him. He tried to look as sweet and harmless as he possibly could.

It must have worked, because a second later she smiled shyly and said, "Do you want to come up, Jackson?"

He grinned from ear to ear.

"For coffee," she added quickly.

"Won't your roommate get mad?"

"I'm a R.A. I don't have a roommate. Unless you count the ghost of Eugene O'Neil."

"Huzzah!" he cheers. "And, I don't."

"Shhhh!" she hisses. Appropriately chastened, he follows her up the stairs to the second floor.

"Hey, I think I've just figured out why you can't sleep at night, Miss Coffee-Junkie," he whispers.

"Oh, I never drink coffee at night. In fact, I might actually be out." They stop in front of the first door on the left. "How about a beer?"

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" He watches her as she jiggles the key in the lock.

"Why would I do that?"

"So you can have your way with me."

"My, don't we think highly of our self?" She shoulders the door open and he follows her inside.

*****

When you're first getting to know someone, and in that blissful, mad first flush of love - or lust- it seems like every aspect of your lover's personality - their whole demeanor, the simple lovely shape of their ear or ankle, their intoxicating phone voice, their very scent - is somehow imbued with an extra push of color, an intensity heretofore, unknown.

At least, that's how it was for Jackson. It didn't happen all the time, and it rarely lasted, but it was definitely happening now.

"So this is my place," she said.

It was fairly nice and spacious for a studio apartment. She'd painted the walls a deep purple and there were bookshelves floor to ceiling. Art, concert, theater, and political posters covered the rest of the wall space. A mobile of origami cranes and flowers floated above her window seat and another mobile dangling what appeared to be vintage postcards hung above her double bed. She switched on a string of silk Vietnamese lanterns above her Goodwill couch, then turned on the lights on her tiny Christmas tree. The place was warm, hospitable. It felt like Lisa, like someplace she'd live.

"I'll grab you that Heineken."

"Okay." Shit. Why was he still whispering? "Wait, you drink Heineken?"

"Sure."

"In your own home?"

Her eyebrow arched warily. "I've been known to."

"I thought you like Pabst."

"I thought I'd try something new."

"Huh," he said, a smirk beginning to form on his lips. Lisa drifted over to her stereo on the way to the kitchen. She stooped to plug it in.

Instead of flopping down on the couch, Jackson hovered near the kitchen door. "So why can't you sleep? I want to solve this."

"I wasn't exaggerating. It's been since I was fourteen."

"That's a lot of reading. I guess that explains all the books."

Lisa shrugged. She pushed play, not concerned about whatever was in there, and slipped past him into the kitchen.

A familiar song began to drift from the speakers. It only took him a moment to place the high, sweet voice. Jeff Buckley's Live At Sin-e was one of his favorite albums. Jesus, this girl is perfect.

"Have you seen doctors?"

"I've seen all the doctors," she called from inside her little fridge. "Every known persuasion." He heard the fridge snap shut.

"Right."

"And I've ingested countless pills and liquids." She handed him a clear, green bottle of his favorite beer.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"Welcome. I've even seen an acupuncturist," she said, arching her brow. She took a swallow of her beer.

"You did? What was that like?"

Her eyebrow arched even higher. "It felt like little needles in my back," she chuckled.

"It hurt?"

Lisa shrugged. "Sometimes. I don't mind a little pain," she said, a slight fierceness tingeing her voice.

"You're really beautiful," he said.

Lisa looked like a deer caught in headlights. She chuckled nervously.

"You are," he pressed, as if she might argue the point with him.

"Thanks. That's, uh..." Her face grew very serious and her smile slipped away. He could see her swallow. "I think you're beautiful, too."

He leaned in to kiss her just as she lifted her beer to take a sip. She quickly pulled the bottle away from her lips just as he leaned back out. It was an awkward move on both their parts. Should he try again?

Lisa cleared her throat, running a hand through her mess of curls. "So, um, Toby said you're in the graduate program and you mentioned an internship. What is it that you want to do?"

Sweet Lisa. Clearly pretending that little faux-pas didn't just happen. Clearly a nervous-talker. Clearly not going to make the first move.

Jackson laid his finger to his lips. "Shhh," he whispered, hushing her, and took the bottle of beer from her hand and set it on the TV stand behind her. He leaned in, tilting his head. Her eyelids fluttered shut as he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Mmmm, he thought. Spectacular.

He pulled away to study her face. It took a while for her to open her eyes. They looked... unfocused.

When he leaned in again, his hand snuck up to brush her soft cheek, then cup the back of her neck; and when he kissed her, he pulled her in closer, gently plundering her mouth with lips and tongue.

He was the first to break their kiss. Lisa seemed to go a little wobbly-kneed and she clutched his arms. In fact, she looked a little dazed.

Well, he couldn't blame her. It had been a pretty amazing kiss.

"I'm interning as a corporate analyst," he continued, conversationally. "I'm hoping a position will open up by the time I graduate. It's terribly boring, but it's a six-figure salary."

"And what does a corporate analyst analyze?" she asked, breathily, staring at his mouth.

"Anything they tell me to," he grinned. 

This time, it was Lisa who pressed her lips to his. She moaned softly, kittenish, in the back of her throat, and damn, he felt his libido go from zero to sixty in two seconds flat.

Lisa hesitantly pulled away, as though she didn't quite want to leave the welcome heat of his mouth. She grabbed his hand and silently tugged him in the direction of her bed. They stood at her bedside, both of their fingers working on the buttons of his shirt, lips finding each other again and again. Lisa pushed him gently down to sit.

She kneeled down on the floor, switching on a little bubble lamp with a plastic holly wreath around it. Jackson smiled. His grandma had had one just like it when he was a kid. Lisa turned and crawled on hands and knees the few feet over to him, her movements so gracefully slinky, so erotic, all nostalgic thoughts fled from his mind. She stopped in front of him and went to work on his shoe laces.

Out of the blue, she asked: "Do you see your family? Your mom?"

Jackson laughed, taken aback by her question. Strictly speaking, he didn't really think about his mom when he was trying to get laid.

"No," he chuckled.

"Not even your siblings?"

"Nope."

It was curious. He'd never been with a woman who took such care with a little thing like untying and taking off his shoes and socks. It could have made her seem subservient, a throw-back to 1950s sexual politics. It might have made him wonder if she was into some sort of submissive kinky thing. Instead, it just seemed... loving.

"Do you call them?" she asked, her palms skimming up his calves to rest on his thighs.

He shook his head. "No."

Lisa looked saddened by this.

"Do you miss them?" she asked softly.

He opened his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't. The wad of emotion in his chest wouldn't let his lungs expand. He felt a twinge in his eyes and his vision began to blur. He blinked rapidly to clear them. Shit, was he seriously about to cry?

Lisa's head tilted, her face softening, as she took in his emotional state. She breathed a soft sigh and leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on his eyelid, then on his lips. Jesus, if he wasn't in love with her before... 

Jackson wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up onto his lap, thoroughly exploring her mouth, then the curve of her neck. His hands found the soft curves of her breasts, her thighs, and he thought that right then, at that moment in time, he had never been happier in his entire life.

***end***

They sat together in the park  
As the evening sky grew dark  
She looked at him and he felt a spark tingle to his bones  
It was then he felt alone and wished that he'd gone straight  
And watched out for a simple twist of fate.

They walked alone by the old canal  
A little confused I remember well  
And stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burning bright  
He felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train  
Moving with a simple twist of fate.

A saxophone someplace far off played  
As she was walking on by the arcade  
As the light bust through a-beat-up shade where he was waking up  
She dropped a coin into the cup of a blind man at the gate  
And forgot about a simple twist of fate.

He woke up the room was bare  
He didn't see her anywhere  
He told himself he didn't care pushed the window open wide  
Felt an emptiness inside to which he just could not relate  
Brought on by a simple twist of fate.

He hears the ticking of the clocks  
And walks along with a parrot that talks  
Hunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailers all come in  
Maybe she'll pick him out again how long must he wait  
One more time for a simple twist of fate.

People tell me it's a sin  
To know and feel too much within  
I still believe she was my twin but I lost the ring  
She was born in spring but I was born too late  
Blame it on a simple twist of fate.

"Simple Twist of Fate" - Bob Dylan

**Author's Note:**

> To any German readers: please let me know if the grammar is off in those two lines. Not sure how accurate Google Translation is. ;-)


End file.
